


Let's Start a Riot

by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle



Series: Estelle is Trying Her Best but Those Olympians Make it Like...Really Hard [8]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Explicit Language, Family Feels, Gen, Humor, I added some serious vibes in this one, I just don't like the guy, Implied/Referenced Character Death, More clues for that background plot, Other Pantheons mentioned, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue Friendship, Rick Riordan Demigod Universe | Riordanverse, Spoilers for ToA, Writing from Ares' POV was hard, background Clarisse la Rue/Chris Rodriguez, mainly because I wanted Clarisse's character to get some closure, oh yeah, poor girl deserves it, speaking of which, trying to sorta redeem him was a nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedFlumadiddle/pseuds/CaffeinatedFlumadiddle
Summary: “You…threw a brick at him?” Ares asked, a little mystified. Were there just random bricks laying around this playground? “Did it hit him?” He asked. Estelle looked up with teary eyes and nodded.“In the face,” she said with a wobbling lip. “It looked like it hurt a lot. NowI’mthe mean one and in trouble.”A pause.“Good job,” Ares said and her mouth popped open. “Hey, look at it this way. That punk won’t be mean to you again and you’ve established yourself as a tough guy… maybe stop crying if you want to keep that up,” he said and Estelle blinked.“My brother says it’s okay to cry.”“Your brother is a sissy and if you’re crying then you’re a sissy too,” Ares dismissed. Estelle quickly wiped the tears away.“I amnota sissy!” She grumbled and Ares shrugged.“I don’t know. You kind of look like one.”OrAres can't decides if he loves or hates Estelle Blofis... but he's leaning towards hate. Definitely hate. Gods, she is annoying.
Relationships: Ares & Clarisse La Rue, Ares & Estelle Blofis, Estelle Blofis & Percy Jackson
Series: Estelle is Trying Her Best but Those Olympians Make it Like...Really Hard [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1449943
Comments: 35
Kudos: 243





	Let's Start a Riot

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome backkkk! If you’re new, no worries. There are other fics in this series that’ll be referenced a few times, but I don’t think you need to read them to get this gist of this one. They’re really only important for the background lore of why Estelle is somehow not being smote lol. Enjoy!

The punk kid’s punk mom had a punk baby. Go figure.

Now, Ares had literally no interest in babies unless it was to raise them to be warriors – which this child was decidedly not. It was clearly weak and frail and… maybe a little dumb judging by the amount of slobber on its stupid, tiny fist.

“This is a waste of time,” Ares muttered as he knelt down. The baby blinked at him. “Yeah. You’re mortal.” He sighed, reaching out to poke the child. The thing gasped in absolute delight. “My father thinks you could be a demigod in disguise,” he informed it. “That my uncle broke his oath and went back to that Sally Jackson girl,” he mused with a shake of his head. “But you are pathetically human, aren’t you?” He asked. The baby reached out to grab at his sunglasses.

“Don’t be a punk,” he grumbled and pushed the hand away. The baby frowned before reaching again. He pushed the hand away again. This continued up until the little beast decidedly had enough with Ares wanting basic personal space and started crying.

“I don’t know why I was sent to deal with you,” he said disgust. Something touched his back.

“Back _away_ from the crib.”

As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey, Jackson,” he said and peered back at where the demigod’s ugly sword was pressed against his jacket. “I wasn’t hurting your precious little sack of flesh. Zeus sent me.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“You’re so _uptight_ ,” Ares complained and turned away only to find himself snorting in amusement. The kid was dressed in sweatpants and a ‘Best Big Brother’ shirt which was a little on the nose considering the situation, but hey. He liked irony. Jackson looked down and sighed.

“My mom,” he said and as an explanation shook his head. “What does Zeus want with a mortal baby?” He asked and took a step to the side. Ares decided to humor him and followed suit. They circled one another until their positions were switched and Jackson was now next to the crib instead of Ares.

“Nothing. That’s the thing. He thinks your dad went off to woo your mom into making the sequel,” he said and Percy made a face.

“She’s _married_ now.”

“Please, as if that’s ever stopped any god. Certainly not me,” Ares told him. Jackson made a face of disgust. “But based on my research… it’s all mortal. Not even a blessing on it,” he mused. “So, put down your puny little sword. Nobody is here to hurt your… is it a boy or a girl?” He frowned. Perseus rolled his eyes.

“Girl.”

“Really?” He frowned and glanced at the crib again. “…ugly little thing.”

“Get _out_ ,” Jackson said and huffed. “I just told Piper I didn’t want any gods to know about her too…”

“I wouldn’t hold out hope for that,” Ares snorted and gave a small salute. “See you around, punk. I’ll be sure to tell my father your kid is pathetically underwhelming,” he winked and disappeared before Jackson could whine anymore to him.

“Human,” he told his father later that day, entering the throne room. Zeus glanced up at him from some scroll a nymph had brought him as Apollo lazily played his lyre in the background, staring idly at the ceiling.

“You’re sure?” Zeus asked him doubtfully. “They said her eyes are green.”

“Who?” Apollo asked, sitting up. Ares waved him away. “Who is human?”

“Jackson’s mom popped out another kid,” Ares dismissed and Apollo stiffened immediately. Zeus was still frowning, eyes deep in thought. What? Did he not believe him?

“Estelle?” Apollo asked. Zeus slowly turned to him. “She has green eyes because Sally’s mom did. Paul is her father,” he frowned at them both. “How do you even know about her?”

“How do _you_ know about her?” Zeus said and electricity crackled around them. Ares looked at his father warily. If he was going to pummel Apollo then he had no qualms, but Ares didn’t want to get mixed up in his father’s wrath. Fighting was one thing, but the idea of turning mortal? That was a solid no-go for him.

Apollo didn’t seem too intimidated though – which was surprising. Ares always known him to be a floozy coward. Maybe he didn’t notice their father was getting pissy.

“I visited them a few times when I was human,” Apollo said, looking his father up and down carefully. “Didn’t think you would take such interest in a baby.”

“I do if it’s Poseidon’s!” Zeus growled at him. Apollo didn’t say anything. There was… something in his eyes that Ares couldn’t quite read. Ares frowned at him, a little unsettled by it. He had such a mortal look to him these days. It was gross. Apollo had been turned mortal before… He had never come back with such a look those times.

“She is not,” Apollo said finally. “I still don’t know how you even know of her existence, father,” he said and tilted his head. “Are you keeping tabs on Perseus?” He asked. Zeus glowered at him. Ares looked between them – a bit bewildered by what was happening. Apollo’s lips thinned slightly before giving a small breath of understanding. “So, you do care.”

“Watch yourself, _child_.” Zeus spat, standing up. The world around him crackled, thunder booming. Apollo didn’t even flinch. He just watched as Zeus spun out of the room, a loud rumbling following with every footsteps.

“What did you just say to him?” Ares asked. Care about what? Ares didn’t know why his father would actually be watching Jackson. The kid was boring. Apollo’s jaw clenched. “Hey. Dipshit. What’s happening?” Ares said, snapping his fingers in front of Apollo’s face.

“What do you care?” Apollo asked warily and shoved Ares’ hand out of the way. “It’s Jason,” he said. Ares stared back blankly. “Our _brother_ ,” he added coldly. “The dead one? Demigod? Roman?” He asked. Ares blinked.

“He’s dead?”

Oh, right. The one his heartless mother had actually cried for. 

“I – yes, he has been for a while now,” Apollo said, looking disgusted. Ares shrugged. What did he care for this random half-blood that wasn’t even his? “Our father has a… poor way of coping,” Apollo told him dryly. Ares shook his head. He hated Apollo’s way of speaking. Shrouded in vague feelings and deception under the guise of _poetry_. Ugh.

“What does this have to do with the brat?”

“It sounds like he was thinking about killing Perseus,” Apollo shrugged. Ares frowned. That wasn’t good. Poseidon would be pretty pissed… then again, it could lead to a civil war and those were always fun. “He’s bitter about losing his son so he was going to even it out. Can’t kill the di Angelo kid if he’s always in Hades’ domain, but Perseus… different story. Then he found saw Estelle and got sidetracked.”

“Aren’t you the detective?”

“Yes, having a brain is quite the burden,” Apollo drawled out, sounding more like Artemis than he ever had in the past. Ares made a face. “It doesn’t matter. Estelle is mortal and in the end he knows he can’t kill Percy Jackson.”

“Too bad,” Ares muttered. Apollo rolled his eyes and picked his lyre back up. Silence settled between them. “I liked you better before,” Ares decided, hoping to draw out a gasp of outrage or stupid comment. Apollo only grinned – eyes somehow humored by the comment.

“Me too.” 

* * *

There were strange things happening in their world. Pantheons were crossing paths more often. The mist was thinning. Ancient rules blurred more and more. It was getting… gray. Ares often found himself trolling the streets looking for fights to clear his head or – curse the Fates – spending more time as Mars to keep himself in line.

He hadn’t meant to see them. Not really.

“You’re a little brat, you know that?”

“Clarisse, I _swear_ on your father’s name if you call her that _one more time-”_

“Cool it, Jackson. She’s a baby,” Clarisse’s voice said and Ares curiously looked around the corner to find his daughter sitting at a coffee shop of all places. She looked decidedly out of place among the common mortals – rougher and tougher with his aura spilling off her so that people scattered away from their table. The baby seemed unbothered. She was older now – still ugly. Jackson, on the other hand, was glowering at Clarisse as he said something under his breath, pointing his fork at her across the table.

“You didn’t call her that all day, did you?” Jackson asked and Clarisse groaned.

“You asked me to watch the damn baby, Percy. I watched her. Take the win.”

“Don’t curse!”

“She can’t talk, dipshit!”

“ _Clarisse,”_ Jackson warned, covering the little girl’s ears as if that could possibly help her now. “Fine. Whatever. Are you two friends now?” He asked, a little warily. Clarisse snorted and turned to Estelle who gave her a gross, slobbering grin.

“She’s pretty cool. Helped me study for my finals and then we hunted down a wayward harpy together,” she said and Perseus dropped his fork. “Reminder – you _asked_ me to watch her,” Clarisse said before he can complain. “I’m positive that things went worse when you made di Angelo watch her,” he said and Ares snorted. He had heard rumors about that actually. Something about a baby accidentally being delivered to the Underworld.

“I just want you to have normal bonding time with her is all,” Percy mumbled. Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“You know she isn’t our sister right?” Clarisse asked and both Jackson and the baby gasped. “Oh, whatever,” Clarisse snorted. “Are you paying for this? My tuition isn’t cheap, you know. I didn’t come all the way back to New York to spend more money, Prissy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fancy college student,” Percy grumbled and brought out his wallet. “Annabeth is so jealous.”

“Like she isn’t going to go to some ridiculous school too,” Clarisse mumbled and then turned to Estelle. “Your sister-in-law in a nerd,” she informed her gravely.

“We aren’t married!”

“Uh huh,” Clarisse rolled her eyes and mouthed ‘sister-in-law’ to Estelle who only giggled at her. Ares continued watching in slight bafflement. His daughter just… went to lunch? With _Jackson?_ She watched the Blofis brat? Maybe there was something about the kid after all. He thought about going to Zeus, but that seemed too extreme. He tried to think of what Olympians liked him. In truth, there was really only one or two…

“Oh,” Aphrodite said and put her hand over her heart when he asked her about it later on. “Maybe she thinks it’s Silena!”

“What?” Ares asked flatly and Aphrodite gave a bright laugh before flittering over to him.

“You know, Hermes thinks the little Estelle girl could be Luke. I heard Hades talking about it the other day,” Aphrodite said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe Clarisse thinks it’s my Silena. It isn’t, but, you know… we all see lost loves in new lives,” she smiled dreamily.

Ugh. That girl. Ares rather liked Aphrodite, but that child of hers took a lot of credit away from him. As if Clarisse slayed the drakon for _her_. No. She had slayed the drakon for Ares.

“Maybe you should visit her,” Aphrodite suggested. “Zeus won’t mind, I’m sure. We all sneak a visit to our kids every so often. He won’t even know,” she said. Ares made a face. While certain gods whined that his father’s rules in intervening in mortal affairs were nonsense, Ares liked not having the responsibility of visiting his kids. He preferred watching them from a distance – like a cool television program specifically for him.

Neverthelss… Clarisse appeared to be in some real need of, um, guidance.

So, here he was in an Arizona dorm room three weeks later. It was… well, strange.

No offense to Aphrodite, but it was stupid idea. Still…maybe (just maybe) visiting wouldn’t be a lost cause. It was interesting. To see the scene in front of him. He was invisible, watching the flurry of movement as a girl hastily held up outfits with various flourish.

“Green or blue?”

“Blue.”

“Should I wear the necklace?”

“Uh huh.”

“I – my hair looks okay like this, right?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to come with me?” The girl asked. Clarisse raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not going on your date, Eileen,” she said and flipped a page in her book. “Besides, I have a paper due next week. I should probably work on that,” she told her roommate. Eileen pouted, but turned back to the mirror, fixing her outfit slightly as Clarisse’s eyes flicked to her with an air of sadness that Ares had trouble understanding.

“Thanks for helping me, Reese. You’re really good at this stuff – even if you say you aren’t into it,” Eileen told her.

“I had a friend who used to be,” Clarisse said quietly and tapped her book with a sigh. “I used to help her get ready for dates with her boyfriend,” she said and then her smile grew fond. “She helped me get ready for my first one with Chris,” she chuckled. “ _That_ was a disaster, but Silena said it was probably her fault for trying to put me in a dress. Poor Chris was so confused when I came out of her cabin,” she said. Eileen paused at her words, watching Clarisse with curious eyes.

“Silena…” She repeated softly. “You’ve mentioned that name before.”

Clarisse’s expression went blank.

“She was a good friend. Aren’t you going to be late?” She added and Eileen glanced down at the time before cursing under her breath, bidding Clarisse a final goodbye before dashing at the door. Ares watched as Clarisse gave a small shake of her head and went back to the book between her hands, hair held together by her bandana as she shifted slightly in the bed.

“This doesn’t look nearly as fun as practicing with your spear,” Ares decided, stepping out from the shadows. Clarisse jumped, hand going towards her weapon before registering his voice. The recognition didn’t relax her. If anything, she got more tense – eyes flicking him up and down warily before fixing her form.

“Father,” she said – voice hard and calculating. “What do I owe the honor?”

“The Blofis brat.”

Clarisse tilted her head. She was off the bed now, hand still inches away from her spear leaning against the wall and jaw clenched.

“Estelle…” She said quietly and sighed. “I hung out with the baby _one_ time. Is Jackson still mad I let her pet a hellhound?”

Ares snorted. That would piss the little sea whelp off, wouldn’t it?

“No, but it has been brought to my attention that you could still be thinking about the Titan War,” Ares chuckled and Clarisse frowned. “Aphrodite. She seems to think you are a victim of it because of that Silena girl,” Ares explained, waving his hand. “That you somehow… I don’t even know. Are still afflicted by it? I don’t think she understands my children relish in such environments,” he shrugged. Clarisse didn’t answer him. He wasn’t sure why. The girl had always been so proud to be claimed by him. She honored his name constantly – threatened to sit out during the war when he was disrespected. “The child is not Silena Beauregard reborn.” He added. Clarisse swallowed.

“I never thought she was. So, feel free to move on, my lord,” she said simply and let her hand fall by her side. Ares frowned. She sounded so formal. What was she? Athena’s kid? Ares opened his mouth to snap at her only to see her inch away.

“No reason to be so uptight,” he reassured her. “I also wanted to see what this… college thing was about,” he frowned, looking around the room. “Seems, uh, boring.”

Clarisse closed her eyes and took a long breath.

“I am not a goddamn coward,” she mumbled – though it sounded like it was more to herself than him.

“Um, no-”

“Get _out_ ,” Clarisse cut him off coldly. Ares stared at her. “I don’t need you, your passive aggressive comments, or your _quests_ here distracting me from my life. If you have a task then perhaps consider one of your _sons_ for the honor,” she told him and snapped her book back up. Ares felt his temper rise for a moment. He said that shit to her _years_ ago. Was she still mad?

“I have no task for you,” he said, forcing her tone to be even. “But I would watch myself, kid. Drakon Slayer or not, I don’t appreciate the tone.”

“I don’t appreciate the fact you think I enjoyed that stupid war,” Clarisse threw right back and – yes, he could see it now. Hatred. Bubbling viciously under whatever calm demeanor she had been sporting. Ares tilted his head. He remembered when she was thirteen and afraid of his ire. She certainly didn’t seem afraid of him now.

“I saw you. You loved it. All my children loved it.”

“I loved the adrenaline, the victory, the heat… and the feeling I was… _achieving_ something,” Clarisse said with a nod. “That’s what war is. Knowing I’m strong and fighting for what I believe in,” she shrugged and then gave a slight shake of her head. “Losing my best friend? Watching people die? Seeing kids younger than me bleeding out on the ground crying for parents who never even bothered to claim them?” Clarisse swallowed. “No. No, I didn’t love that part.”

“You got over it-”

“I refused to fight. I did to honor your name,” Clarisse said and shook her head. “And Silena died because of it. Say what you will. Call her traitor or whatever the Hell you want, in the end that is what I will pin it on,” she said and took a step towards him. “And I will _never_ get over that because I was wrong. _Your_ name was not worth it. Maybe I thought so at the time, but the longer I sit with it…” she laughed. “How many of those unclaimed kids were yours?” She asked.

Ares didn’t answer.

“Yeah, I bet a lot of them were. They just weren’t tough enough to claim, huh? Not brave enough? Big enough? Man enough?” She asked and shook her head in disgust. “I have a paper to write and I’ve grown up past the point of caring how badly you could hurt me. You weren’t worth that either.”

Ares knew how to deflect plenty of hits. Spears, swords, maces – he didn’t quite now how to deflect all of that. Instead he just tried his best not to blow up the building they were standing in. His anger was practically catapulting through his body – only held together by the small whisper in the back of his mind that this girl was one of his more successful children. Clarisse’s eyes stared back at him. There was a fire in them that she did not get from him.

Ares left without another word.

He decided he would no longer waste his time on the Blofis girl.

* * *

“ARES!”

The Fates… had other ideas.

Ares had heard Estelle Blofis had a habit of making her offerings… literal. Sea shells for Poseidon, flowers for Aphrodite, bread for Demeter, books for Athena – Ares had hoped the dumbass might throw a gun into a fire to summon him and blow something up. Tragically, she did not. Instead she decided to toss old war DVDs into her apartment’s fireplace and hope for the best.

Ares was a little indignant that it _worked_.

“Ares, I really need your help!” Her voice called, high-pitched and annoying as it had been since she had called for Poseidon that day on the beach. Groaning, he flicked his wrist and figured he at least owed her a good scare for bothering him.

“What do you _want?”_ He asked as he appeared. For a moment, she seemed frozen in surprise before almost tripping over nothing. Ares shook his head as she flinched away, shuffling back. “You better answer me, mortal-”

“Brad Thomas is mean,” came the quiet response. Ares blinked.

“What?”

“Brad Thomas is _mean,”_ the girl said and clenched her little hands by her side. “He is mean and I told him to stop being mean and he didn’t! So, then I tried be his friend because… well, you aren’t mean to your _friends!_ Only he pushed me and said my pigtails were stupid and he didn’t want to be my friend,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Ares stared at her. What the Hell…? “And I asked the teacher to make him be nice and she didn’t do anything,” she grumbled.

“Why am I here?”

“Percy said that Reese’s daddy beats people up and-”

“Who the Hell is Reese?” He asked and his mind flicked through what the Hell was happening only to land on: “Clarisse?”

Estelle’s eye brightened.

“Yeah! Reese!” She said and Ares… just… wanted to punch this little girl so _freaking_ badly. “And I asked Anna and she said _you_ are Reese’s daddy so I need you fight Brad Thomas for me.”

A pause.

“You… want me… to fight a kid for you?” He asked. The girl nodded. “No. Fuck off.”

Estelle tilted her head.

“What’s that mean?”

“Say it to your brother and you’ll find out,” Ares said and raised his hand. “Look, kid. I have way more important things than to do instead of this,” he told her. “Don’t bother me over stupid stuff. If this Brad kid is mean to you then you got buck up and fight him yourself,” he said and there was a long pause in which the girl’s brows came together in utter concentration.

“How… how would I do that?” She asked tentatively. Ares raised an eyebrow. “I could fight! Percy fights bad guys sometimes so maybe I can fight Brad Thomas,” she reasoned. Ares snorted. Sure. Part of him was ready to just pop on out to deal with anything other than this brat, but he found himself hesitating.

Was… was he supposed to _not_ help a little girl instigate a fight? It was his duty to inspire the next generation here. Sighing, he knelt down in front of her and promptly flicked her in the forehead. The girl gasped.

“Listen up, twerp. If you want to beat up this kid you have to throw a decent punch. Do you know how to throw a decent punch?” He asked. She nodded. “Show me.” He demanded and watched as she lifted a measly hand thrust it forward. “…you do not know how to throw a decent punch.”

“Oh,” she said and frowned at her fist. “Um, what do you do then?” She asked. Ares sighed and fixed her grip so the thumb was on the outside of her fist and wrist completely straight. She tried again. Not much improvement. Ares grimaced at her.

“We have some work to do, punk.”

“Estelle.”

“What?”

“My name is Estelle!” She said brightly. “You can call me Stella though-”

“I don’t _care,”_ Ares said, absolutely disgusted at the frivolities. “Are you serious about kicking this kid’s ass?” He asked. Estelle nodded. “Then get moving! Start punching stuff and if you cry then I leave,” he warned. Estelle gave him a startled look, but set to work. It was a long couple of hours, but Ares felt like they fit in a good lesson before bedtime rolled around.

“Can you come visit tomorrow?” She whispered as she brushed her teeth. “After I beat him up?”

Ares rolled his eyes.

“Maybe if I have nothing better to do,” he said and made a face. “What are you _wearing?”_

“My princess jammies!” Estelle beamed and twirled so her dress flowed out around her. “Do you like them?”

“No.”

Estelle scowled at him and turned around so she could point her toothbrush at him.

“You better be careful,” she warned. “Or I’m going to beat _you_ up next!”

Ares snorted.

“I would like to see that, twerp.” He said and reached over to shove her to the ground before disappearing back to Olympus.

As it turned out, Ares _didn’t_ have anything to do the next day. He figured he might as well see if this Brad Thomas kid got his ass beat or if Estelle maybe got her ass beat by Brad Thomas. Either way, he was hoping for some action.

Based on the absence of the fight and the fact he had appeared in the middle of an elementary school office... he had missed it. Ares frowned, glancing around at a woman who was probably Sally Jackson speaking lowly as she wrung her hands in front of the receptionist before being whisked away towards a door that had PRINCIPAL stamped across the window in gold letters. Estelle sat on a bench right outside, chin in her hands as she swung her legs.

“Well?” Ares asked as he sat down in front of her in a plastic chair. “How did it go?”

Estelle sighed. She looked uninjured, which was kind of disappointing.

“I tried to punch him, but I accidentally missed and hit a tree,” she sighed and hung her head. It was then that Ares noted the bright red marks on her right fist – skin scratched a bleeding ever so slightly. “Then he laughed at me,” she said with a small sniff. Ares made a face of disgust. “And it made me _so_ mad! So, I threw a brick at him.”

Wait. What?

“You…threw a brick at him?” Ares asked, a little mystified. Were there just random bricks laying around this playground? “Did it hit him?” He asked. Estelle looked up with teary eyes and nodded.

“In the face,” she said with a wobbling lip. “It looked like it hurt a lot. Now _I’m_ the mean one and in trouble.”

A pause.

“Good job,” Ares said and her mouth popped open. “Hey, look at it this way. That punk won’t be mean to you again and you’ve established yourself as a tough guy… maybe stop crying if you want to keep that up,” he said and Estelle blinked.

“My brother says it’s okay to cry.”

“Your brother is a sissy and if you’re crying then you’re a sissy too,” Ares dismissed. Estelle quickly wiped the tears away.

“I am _not_ a sissy!” She grumbled and Ares shrugged.

“I don’t know. You kind of look like one.”

“Not uh!”

“Whatever you say.”

“ _You_ …” Estelle huffed, face turning bright red as she blew out a hefty breath, making her cheeks puff up in anger. Ares grinned at her. “You’re a sissy,” she finally mumbled and melted into her seat. Then, before Ares could respond, she looked back up at him. “…what’s a sissy?”

Kids were just… the worst.

Ares had gotten her to throw a brick at someone though so he counted it as a win. The whole thing had put him in a rather good mood for their father’s impromptu meeting (apparently some kid turned thirteen and wasn’t claimed so the parent had to get busted or whatever. Lame Jackson rules… the kid honestly might be Ares’, who knows?)

“Father,” he greeted as he walked into the council room. “Mother-”

“ _ARES!”_

The room paused before slowly alternating between looking between Ares and Poseidon as Jackson’s voice filled the room with undeniable anger. Ares smiled and went over to sit in his throne.

“What the Hell?!” Jackson’s voice spat out, practically shaking the room. “I thought I told you to stay away from Estelle-”

“Oh, Ares, what did you do?” Aphrodite sighed. Ares cackled and settled a bit more in his throne. He could hear the little whelp in the background of Perseus’ prayer, which only aided in the hilarity.

“Percy? What does it mean? Is it bad?” Her voice came through. “Ares told me to tell you! I thought it was nice! Reese says he’s your cousin,” she said, sounding a little distressed. Ares snickered some more as her brother stumbled for a response through his outrage.

“I – Ares is not nice, Estelle. I’m not mad at you, but don’t talk to him-”

“But he’s your cousin!”

“I know, but we don’t always get along with our cousins, Estelle.”

“…but you love them anyways, right?”

A long pause followed.

“Ooh,” Hermes laughed. “Ares, Perseus doesn’t love you.”

“Aw, Ares,” Apollo clicked his tongue. “Don’t take it too hard.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love any of us very much at the moment-”

“Untrue!” Aphrodite frowned, putting a hand on her chest. “He owes me his great love! Deep down he appreciates all I’ve done for him!”

“Uh huh, throwing them in Tartatus was _very_ romantic, Aphrodite.”

“QUIET!” Hermes yelled, waving all the rest of them away. “I want to hear more about Perseus not loving Ares,” he told them all. Poseidon scoffed from his seat, subtly rubbing a temple as he glanced at Ares’ prayer warily.

“Kind of relieved to hear it,” Ares muttered and met his mother’s disapproving eyes. “She prayed to me! Was I supposed to ignore the gremlin? She had a very pressing issue that I was duty-bound to help her through,” he explained.

“I think Ares is kind of nice,” Estelle’s voice continued in the background. “He helped me make Brad Thomas stop being mean-”

“He’s the reason you threw a brick at that boy?!” Jackson demanded and the gods all murmured.

“Ares!” Aphrodite yelled, putting a hand over her heart. “You…? Darling, that is not appropriate!” She whispered, scandalized. Ares shook his head.

“I taught her how to throw a punch. The brick was all hers,” Ares said with a small swell of pride. Gods, he was so good at his job. “I even got a look at the kid as I was leaving. Black eye _and_ broken nose!” He said, punching the air. The group all grumbled in disapproval. “Oh, come off it. Killjoys,” he muttered.

“Oh no,” Estelle’s voice suddenly came through, echoing over the chamber. “So… so that word wasn’t nice?” She asked and Hera frowned, giving him a questioning look as to what the ‘word’ had been. Ares only smiled back at his mother.

“No, don’t say it to anybody, okay?” Perseus’ voice muttered warily. “Though I’m _real_ close to saying it to you, Lord Ares-”

“I said it to Mr. D,” Estelle’s voice interrupted.

Silence. Slowly, the entire counsel turned to where Dionysus was sipping a coke. Had she really? And _lived?_ Dionysus had never – _never_ been so lenient. From the other side of the connection there was choking sound.

“You… told… Mr. D to fuck off?” Percy asked, voice high and strangled. Hermes gasped in absolute delight while Poseidon’s eyes widened in horror. Thunder crackled loudly in the sky as Zeus’ eyes flashed. “She didn’t know what it meant!” Jackson’s voice cut in quickly. “It won’t happen again. Accident. Total accident. She apologized – Estelle, please apologize.”

“Sorry, Mr. D!”

“We’ll get you some offerings. It’s fine. You’re fine. We’re fine,” he chanted a little under his breath. “I – what did he say when you told him?” She asked.

“Um, he told _me_ to fuck off,” Estelle mumbled and Dionysus shrugged as he took off his shades and licked his lips.

“I like the di Angelo kid. He asked me not to kill her,” he said as a way of explanation. “She also called me a donut, but I made him beg a little to keep me from turning her into a turnip there,” he chuckled lowly. Ares grinned. Ah, yes. This kid _was_ his speed after all. Poseidon glowered at him.

“This is _Ares’_ fault more than anyone else’s-” he began and Ares considered telling _him_ to fuck off. He kept this to himself as his father twitched in his throne. Ares decided he wouldn’t get the girl smited. After all, he had a change in heart.

Estelle Blofis was _great_.

* * *

Ares changed his mind again. She was awful. Terrible. He could not believe this was happening.

“You’re the god of courage, right?” Estelle squeaked. She was hiding behind a large stuffed bear, eyes wide and absolutely terrified. Ares wanted so badly to launch this small child into the sun for wasting his precious time. “C-can you help me?” She asked, wringing her hands around a sparkly wand that also seemed to be her weapon of choice.

What in the name of his father was this? The girl showed no fear in the face of actual _gods_ , but… this? _This_ was what she cowered from?

“Why have you not asked your brother for help in this matter?”

“He’s at camp,” Estelle grumbled and then shivered. “And mom and dad are asleep,” she added. Ares narrowed his eyes. She was like eight. Way too old for this shit. Ares scowled between her and where the unmade bed sat on the other side of the room. “Please? Can you… can you check?”

“No!” Ares snapped at her. “I’m not the god of checking under the bed for monsters! I’m the god of courage and war! If you summoned me here then it is because _you_ will be checking under the bed,” he told her flatly. Estelle gave another small yelping noise before shaking her head.

“No!”

“Yes,” Ares said and marched over to grab her arm and tossed her towards the bed. “Go look.”

“No!” Estelle whispered and scrambled back towards him. “Stop, the tooth fairy might be waiting there!” She practically sobbed and clambered back. Ares opened his mouth to snap at her, but found his mind suddenly catching up to her.

“The _tooth fairy?”_ Ares repeated, anger suddenly gone to make way for unbridled bewilderment. “You’re scared of the tooth fairy?” He demanded. This girl was clear-sighted, wasn’t she? Shouldn’t she be scared of the actual monsters roaming about? The enemies her brother has made? The gods he’s ticked off? That Ares could perhaps understand, but… the _tooth fairy?_ Estelle nodded, gnawing at her lip as she stared at the bed from behind Ares’ leg. “Explain that shit to me immediately.”

Estelle glanced up at him before swallowing and giving a small nod.

“Dad says I leave my teeth under the pillow for her and I get money in return,” she said and Ares rolled his eyes at how her voice shook. “He makes it sound like a good thing, but I think he just doesn’t want to scare me.”

“Uh huh.”

“But… why does she want my teeth?” Estelle mumbled. “What is she doing with them? Are they like offerings? Why do I have to offer her teeth?” she asked, voice growing more distressed as she spoke. “What’s she going to do when she has them all? I don’t want her to eat me with all of my teeth!” She wailed. Ares stared down at her.

“The tooth fairy isn’t real,” he finally said. Estelle blinked at him – eyes glistening with tears. “Your parents are the ones keeping your teeth,” he said and then shrugged. “Probably to eat you with.”

“My mama would _never,”_ Estelle muttered and took a long breath. “She isn’t real?” She asked, eyes flickering towards the bed again. Then her lips puckered. “What… what about Santa?” She asked. Ares almost smacked her. Was she really asking a Greek god about _Santa?_ The audacity. Then again, Athena had mumbled something about her not being the brightest. Mortal children never were.

“He’s real,” Ares said for the sake of seeing how easily she bought the lie… pretty easily. “But he’s really the one you should be afraid of,” he tacked on. Estelle blinked at him. “I mean, don’t you think? Some weird guy you don’t know watching you all the time? Sneaking into your house? Taking your food? Why does he always know what you want for Christmas?” He asked and Estelle’s lips pursed.

“I… but he’s nice?”

“Maybe for now,” Ares shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “But what if… one day he _didn’t_ want to be nice?” He asked and silently relished the look at her face. “Well, goodnight.”

“Wai-”

He vanished before she could finish.

Three days later while he was at Aphrodite’s temple he got a very angry prayer from – guess who!

“Seriously? You freak my sister out over Santa Claus? What kind of messed up-”

“Is that Percy Jackson?” Aphrodite asked as she brushed out her hair. “Oh, that’s nice he prays to you. I never get any prayers from that mortal,” she mused and then looked thoughtfully in the mirror. “Maybe if I turned his Annabeth into a mouse he would pray more often.”

“Poseidon wouldn’t like that,” Ares warned her as Perseus’ prayer continued in the background. Aphrodite huffed. “Besides,” he grinned at her. “I don’t think you would like the punk’s prayers.”

“ARES!” Estelle’s voice shrieked in the background. “Is the Easter Bunny mean too?!”

Alright, he kind of liked the little mortal whelp again. She was fun to scare.

“Hey,” he said thoughtfully and turned to Aphrodite. “You think we could get a giant, evil rabbit down to Manhattan?”

* * *

It had been years since Ares had seen Estelle Blofis.

Now, she was asking for his blessing.

“I heard you’ve been causing trouble,” Ares said with a small smirk. “Don’t get me wrong – I love it. You got a real attitude under that stupid smile of yours, Blofis,” he said and then shook his head. “But I’m not pissing off my father for you.”

Estelle’s jaw tightened. How old would she even be now? Ares wrinkled his nose as he considered for a moment only to decide he didn’t care. She looked awful either way. Of course, he knew about that. Rumor was it that her brother kicked the bucket. Poseidon seemed oddly docile for it to be true though. Ares was sure the kid was fine, but his sister didn’t seem to understand that.

“I can’t fight,” Estelle managed. “Percy taught me some basics, but not enough to kill a minotaur.”

“And why do you need to kill a minotaur, little mortal?” Ares asked, rolling a knife between his fingers. Estelle’s eyes seemed tired as she watched the movement, fingers twitching by her side.

“I need an offering. For Hades,” she said, voice cracking for a moment and then taking a steadying breath. “I need an offering. A big one.”

“My blessing is reserved for my children.”

“I need it,” Estelle said loudly and looked away quickly. She took another breath. “I need to do this for my brother. To make sure he’s okay. I need to figure out a way to talk to him or…” She shook her head. “Please.” She said and Ares made a face. This was _pathetic_. Why would he even want to help the brat when she’s all… grossly emotional?

“There are laws, twerp,” Ares told her with a shrug. “We can’t interfere in mortal affairs.”

The brat tilted her head before frowning at him.

“...Is that a fucking joke?”

Ares blinked. He encouraged rage, yes, absolutely, but he was a little taken aback by the hostile tone on one previously so... docile.

“Take it up with Zeus. I don’t make the laws, kid.”

“I - if you can’t interfere in mortal affairs then... why... why are you even having children with them? That counts. That definitely counts as interfering in a mortal affair.” She said, voice slowly rising. Ares cleared his throat in warning, but perhaps it was this emotional state or her obnoxious attitude in general, but she didn’t flinch away.

“Well, not really-”

“Yes, really! Those people – the _parents_ of your kids - have lives. Dreams, goals, things to do - that shit is hard when you have a child to raise on your own, you know? Well, no, actually. How would you? None of you have raised a single child in over a millennium,” she muttered.

“Watch it.”

“How can you be allowed to do something so destructive only to not help out?” She asked and Ares raised an eyebrow. “Why am I _begging_ all of you to help my brother?” She asked, voice rising. “They’re your kids! You had a role in creating them and then you just leave their mortal families to _suffer-”_

“I’m sure demigods are flattered you just said they ruined their mortal parents’ lives.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Estelle snarled. “None of them are equipped to handle monsters or mists or the fact their child might only live to be twenty at most! You know, those who actually know that their one hookup was a god. It isn’t fair of you to do that to them and then not help.” She said and ran her hand through her hair. “I’m not like you. I love my family. I want to help them and if you won’t give me your blessing to kill the minotaur then… fine,” she muttered.

“You don’t have the courage for my blessing.”

Estelle’s eyes narrowed.

“Ironic,” she said and Ares raised his spear to her throat in warning. She didn’t break his gaze. “How can you feel courage if you have nothing to be afraid of?” She asked. Ares tilted his head. Fascinating. She just would not look away. “Well, almost nothing.”

Ares laughed.

“And what do you think I’m afraid of?” He asked her. Estelle’s eyes glanced down at the spear before jutting out her chin. Indignance was playing at her features – challenging him. She had an answer. She wouldn’t tell him. The ground rumbled with his irritation, but she didn’t back away.

Perhaps she had more spine than he thought.

“Tell you what,” Ares said and handed over his spear. “I won’t give you my blessing, but you can have my spear. As soon as the minotaur is dead it will return to me. If not,” he clicked his tongue. “I’ll use it to rip your tongue out before incinerating you.” He said and held it out. Estelle slowly reached out for it.

“…thank you.” She said stiffly. Ares grinned at her.

“You’re one annoying mortal, Estelle Blofis. One of the gods are going to kill you if you keep this up.”

She didn’t answer. All she did was give a polite bow and turn away with the spear in hand. Ares watched her go with wry amusement. He wondered if she would survive. Poor Sally Jackson. Both her kids ended up being such fools.

As it turned out, Estelle lived. Hades seemed vaguely annoyed when she had barged into the Winter Solstice meeting to lay the spoils down at his feet – demanding an audience. Ares wasn’t really concerned about the details of that discussion, he was too busy staring thoughtfully at the spear. Huh. Good for her. His mind absently went towards Clarisse. Part of him wondered what her life was like now.

Eh, it didn’t matter. She was a brat.

“How long until you think Zeus kills her?” Hephaestus muttered. Ares snorted. Not long, surely. Their father was steaming almost literally at Estelle’s audacity of appearing… how long had it been since a mortal just waltzed in? Rachel Dare was one thing, but… well, Estelle Blofis maybe had more courage than he gave her credit for.

Or just an insane amount of stupidity.

* * *

“Well, well, well…” Ares said. Once again, it had been quite some time since he had seen Eselle Blofis. Apparently, she had joined Artemis’ group of virgins to gallivant around in the moonlight or whatever it is they did. She still looked pretty pathetic though. He would have thought she had outgrown that. Slightly small, hair way too long for fighting, very limited scars – yeah. No good. “So, you still suck at fighting?” He asked. Estelle narrowed her eyes.

“Yep, so Artemis was hoping you could teach me!” She said with a tight smile. Ares snickered and upped his aura. Immediately, Estelle’s entire body tensed with irritation – eyes flashing. Good. She seemed ready to fight.

“Check the bubbly shit at the door,” he said and walked over to the rack of weapons stashed off to the side. They were in one of his many arenas on Olympus (he had Athena’s girl design him a good amount). This one had pretty much all the basic weapons they would need. He tossed her a sword and sighed when she dropped it. “Well?” He asked her. “Come on. Let me see what I’m working with.”

Nothing. The answer was nothing. She was truly as terrible as she looked. Awful. Just… awful. His spear must have worked miracles with the minotaur.

“That was kind of good!” She said after a few dozen more attempts. Ares pursed his lips.

“It was not.”

“It was a little good.”

“No.”

“Not bad?”

“No.”

“…not as bad as it could have been?”

“No.”

“Alright,” Estelle muttered and then brightened. “Not the worst you’ve ever seen?” She asked and Ares only stared at her. “You’re not very encouraging, are you?” She sighed and flopped on the ground. “Alright, so… swords aren’t for me. Neither is archery, knives, battle axes, or spears,” she listed off. “Are there other weapons?” She asked and Ares looked at the weapon rack with a grimace.

“Some,” he said and considered his options. He glanced down at her. Artemis owed him so badly for this. He was about to tell her as much when he noticed a glimmer around her neck. Ares stared. Was that a joke? He walked over and narrowed his eyes.

“…what?” She asked and then blew a piece of hair from her eyes. Ares stared at her before kneeling down and looking down at the pendent. Huh. She had been… well, _claimed_ wasn’t the right word. Marked maybe? Whatever it was… it was strange. Who would have given her this? His mind flicked to Apollo and sighed. What had his dumbass brother gotten into now? It at least explained why nobody had murdered her. Gods get awfully pissy if you kill someone wearing their sign.

“What is this?” He asked. Estelle shrugged.

“My necklace?” She told him. Ares rolled his eyes. Strange. He would pocket the knowledge for another time. “It’s a necklace.”

“You are so stupid.”

“Well, it isn’t like _you’re_ the god of being smart,” she grumbled and stretched out a bit. “Can we take a break so I can see a bit more of Olympus?” She asked, a little hopefully. Ares rolled his eyes. Whatever. She was technically a huntress so it wasn’t as if he as letting a mortal dally about. “My sister-in-law designed this place, you know.”

“I was _there_ ,” Ares told her in disgust. Estelle only grinned at him and quickly scrambled up to look around. With a flick of his wrist they were out of the arena and more towards the center of the mountain. Not the throne room, but near it. “Make it quick. I don’t want to spend extra time with you.”

“It’s _beautiful,”_ Estelle murmured and Ares glanced at a statue of Aphrodite before humming in agreement. He couldn’t argue that. Estelle followed his eyes and grinned. “You have a crush.”

“What?”

“A crush. It means you like someone.”

“I – kid, I have had _children_ with that woman. What do you expect me to say?” He asked, a little taken aback. Estelle laughed. “A _crush_. How old even are you? Her and I mess around. Get yourself together.” He mumbled.

“Aw,” Estelle said and Ares stared. What the Hell was this? She put a hand over her heart and skipped forward a bit. “You know, in the myths I really only hear you _messing around_ with her. Like, mortals, sure. But god-wise? Nah.”

“I typically go through so many that I don’t return for seconds.”

“Except with Aphrodite?” Estelle asked. Damnit. He walked into that one. “Crush!” She sang and Ares couldn’t decide what to do with this. It was annoying, yes, but not in the way he was used to. Frowning, he followed her down the marbled path towards the Temple of Fallen Heroes. “She’s not my favorite at the moment,” Estelle informed him as they kept walking. “But I do think you two are cute together.”

“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t drop this.”

“Sure, sure,” Estelle murmured and then looked around. “Hey, what’s your favorite color?”

“ _What?”_

“Colors. I like green,” she said, kneeling in front of a thicket of flowers and began picking an armful. “I like blue too, but that’s Percy and my mom’s thing. Do gods have favorite colors?” She asked. Ares didn’t even know how to respond. She waited. “…no?”

“I want to punch you so much. Like, Jackson could be standing right there and I still might do it.”

Estelle frowned.

“I didn’t realize colors were such a sensitive subject,” she grumbled and got up to keep on towards the temple. “What’s this place?” She asked, walking inside to start frowning at the plaques and statues.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Ares muttered. “Temple of Fallen Heroes. We put demigod brats here when they die – or something like that,” he mused. “A remembrance thing.”

Estelle paused. She turned to him, mouth opening slightly before giving a very slow nod.

“That is… really good of you.”

“Eh,” Ares shrugged. “The Chase brat insisted on it. I don’t think any god really wanted it here aside from Hermes. I know my father was gunning for another bathhouse,” he mused. Estelle’s face cleared again before giving a small sigh and marching forward. She went around, placing flowers at every hero’s statue as she milled about until reaching the one at the end of the hall. Ares followed, seconds away from plucking her up to go back to the arena.

“What do you know about Jason Grace?” Estelle asked as she stared up at his statue. Ares froze.

Oh, how he _hated_ that name. It had been easy to forget when he was alive. Harder now that the consequences of his death hung over them.

Ares, Enyo, Eris, Hebe, Eileithyia, and Hephaestus. Those were the children of Zeus and Hera. The only children of their marriage despite thousands of years. Of those, only two were Olympians. Between Ares and Hephaestus, Ares wasn’t the one thrown off of the goddamn mountain.

Ares was – by all intents and purposes – the most successful of their children. He should be his mother’s favorite. Not that he cared about such trivial things, but there was a special sting Jason Grace brought him. The child of his father’s sloppy mortal had been favored over him. Again, whatever, he didn’t care, but it was a bit insulting on principle. That his father’s unwanted second-borne – yeah, _second-borne -_ Zeus went crawling to that woman _twice_ and Hera still, she _still_ , accepted the child as if he was her own. She mourned his death. She cried for him. Named him. Cared for him.

A demigod. A boring demigod who had been the subject of such small quest in the grand scheme of things. Small and weak and pathetic and _mortal_. He had died. Mortal. Through and through. What had his mother seen in such a creature? More so than in her son of blood and war and power? Pathetic.

“I know he was brat,” Ares muttered. “Fell for that Aphrodite girl. She broke his heart, I think. He died helping Apollo. That’s really it,” he said and Estelle bit her lip as she studied the statue of him carefully.

“Was he close with Zeus?”

“Jupiter,” Ares corrected. “And no. My father gave him to Juno as a gift,” he explained and Estelle’s brows came together. “She liked him for some reason,” he added under his breath. He felt her eyes turn to him and for a second he worried there might have been pity there.

“That’s very sad,” she decided and Ares put a hand on her shoulder. The air shifted and they were back in the arena. Estelle frowned. “I didn’t get to leave a flower at his statue,” she said and Ares rolled his eyes before smacking the remaining plants from her hands.

“We aren’t here for that shit. Pick up that whip and see if you’re any good with it,” he ordered and inwardly died when Estelle immediately hit herself in the face with it. Artemis was going to be in his debt forever. At least good news came an hour later. They finally, _finally_ found a weapon the girl couldn’t kill herself with. A staff of all things. Ares didn’t know what to think. Of course she could only use a _stick_ to fight. Typical. Absently, he tried to think of any connection to whatever god must be secretly defending her pathetic life. Hermes used a staff… Nah, it couldn’t be Hermes no matter how fond he was of the girl.

Maybe there was no connection. Just because the staff was the least awful for her didn’t mean she was any good. They had been sparring for almost two hours and she was barely keeping her form as it was.

“Well?” Ares said and knocked her down… again. “Get up.”

Estelle bristled, but did as she was told. She raised the staff again only to be knocked down again seconds later. Ares could see her irritation rising. He bit back a grin before easily knocking her over, relishing a bit in some revenge after how _annoying_ she had been.

“Let me get up-”

“Your enemy won’t let you get up,” Ares cut her off and shoved her down before she could raise her staff. She scowled, hitting the ground hard. “Unless you’re fighting some punk like your brother.”

“Didn’t he beat you when he was like _twelve?”_ She snarled back. Ares’ temper flared. The arena got hot as he twirled his spear and struck her arm, drawing blood.

“I have been lenient with you in the past, child. Don’t press your luck.” He warned. Estelle didn’t seem deterred by the threat. She only got back and raised her staff again. She twirled it once before moving to land a hit. Ares didn’t give her the chance. He swept her leg out – knocking her down once again as she let out a string of curses. “Are you even _trying?”_

“This doesn’t come naturally!”

“Boo freaking hoo. Try not sucking.”

“What a natural teacher you are,” Estelle snapped back. Ares shrugged. “No wonder Chiron is the one who trains the demigods.” She told him and Ares laughed.

“As if I have time for _that,”_ he cooed and dodged another one of her puny hits. She may have Jackson’s spirit, but definitely not his aim. Shaking his head, he thrust his spear out, narrowly missing her side. “Besides, what do I care to train a bunch of whiny kids who are going to die anyways?”

Ares wasn’t sure why… but that _really_ pissed her off.

“You’re _infuriating-”_

“Have you met yourself?” Ares scoffed. Estelle swung again. “No wonder Demeter’s always complaining about you pissing off her daughter,” he said. Immediately, he heard her heart rate pick up. “You want to know the funny part?” He asked, sensing a sore spot. “Your sucky fighting it probably what is going to get Demeter’s girl killed too.”

That did it. Estelle got up with every intention of knocking the shit at out of him. Unfortunately, anger didn’t hone in her concentration. It made her sloppy and it was all too easy to simply step aside and stick out a leg so she stumbled back towards the ground with a frustrated scream. This time, when she went to get up, he used the point of his spear to pin the edge of her shirt into the ground so she couldn’t get up. He amped up his aura some more.

“I do specialize in pissing people off,” he warned her casually. “So maybe don’t try to outdo me.”

“Oh yeah?” She practically spat out. “How’s this: your kids hate you because not only are you a shitty parent, but you’re a shitty person with no redeeming qualities. Hera probably thought the same thing, which is why she preferred Jason Grace over you.”

Fire exploded around them. Estelle flinched, shielding herself from the debris. It didn’t stop her from looking back up at him a second later and mouthing the words ‘I win’ vindictively through the smoke.

Yeah, that was the line right there. The fire around them raised – flames turning blue with his anger before he yanked out the spear. He would do it slowly. Her eyes first. Her hands. Her feet. Piece by piece so would know his full wrath-

Then his eyes fell to that _fucking_ necklace. How likely was it that the other gods on it would _actually_ be upset if he killed her? Would Iris really be upset? Would Mercury? Loki might find it funny. Still, he hesitated. How would his father react if he started a war with the other pantheons? He thought to Apollo. Would Ares be able to stand being thrust into mortality as he had?

Sighing, he lowered the spear.

“How about I do you?” He asked instead, voice low and venomous. “You don’t have a single mortal friend because you’re a freak, all the demigods you love are going to die including your precious brother, and Artemis sent you to me because she’s _that_ desperate to keep you from getting the rest of her hunters killed. You are weak and foolish and I can assure you that more of us want you dead than alive,” he said and stood up. “Cross me again… I’ll find a way to ensure you regret it,” he growled.

Then, just like that, he was gone. He needed to calm down. Anger might be a familiar emotion, but sometimes it became too potent for even him. The fact he had to put up with this was… unreal. Still, he dealt her a heavy blow. That may be enough to shut her up.

It was not.

Ares had no idea... _how_ she did it. Someone must have helped her though he had no idea who.

“I’m going to kill her. Necklace or not. Jackson or not. Artemis or not.”

“Hm,” Enyo told him. “The little wretch has an eye for the art,” she grinned and walked over to Ares’ motorcycle. “I kind of like her style. How did she even do this?” She asked. Ares glowered at her. Around them, fights started breaking out left and right as his ire shot up.

His motorcycle stood in front – burning somehow. Hephaestus had said the thing was indestructible, but apparently not given the slashed tires, ruined paint, cracked handles, and green spray paint covering it. Perhaps even more insulting were the names surrounding the bike. Hercules. Athena. Percy Jackson. Diomedes. All those who have humiliated and defeated him.

“Homer?” Enyo asked, peering at the spray painted name. Ares’ ground his teeth. “I don’t believe he’s ever bested you, brother.”

“He wrote me in an… unflattering light,” Ares muttered.

“Ah, that’s right,” Enyo chuckled and patted his arm. “She did her research.”

“This is too far. Even with her various protections nobody can ignore this sort of disrespect!” He screamed and Enyo clicked her tongue.

“I don’t know… you aren’t very well liked, Ares,” she said casually. Something exploded off in the distance. “Artemis will protect her huntress and we all know she is far more beloved than you,” she clicked her tongue. “Perhaps mother will favor your plight. You know, now that Jason Grace is gone.”

Another explosion.

“Do you wish to test my wrath as well?” He hissed. Enyo smiled at him – eyes glittering with amusement. “I will-” he began, but fell silent when the sound of fluttering joined them. He turned to find Hermes grimacing at the wreckage before nodding slowly.

“So,” he began and spread out his hands. “I get the feeling you might be a tidbit upset.”

Someone screamed. Hermes gave a weak laugh.

“I want her dead.”

“Uh huh, noted. Well, we can’t do that. Have we considered maybe giving her a stern talking to?”

“ _Hermes_.”

“I’ll get Artemis on it,” he said quickly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think she’s at her mother’s house anyways. We can take care of this before the girl comes back,” he said and fixed Ares with an almost apologetic look. “Um, see you at the meeting?” He said. Ares clenched his hands and more people began to scream. “Always good to see you, Ares.”

He hated that smug little _brat_.

* * *

“I have a bone to pick with you.”

The absolute _audacity_.

“Get in line,” Ares said and glanced up at where Estelle was standing. She was covered in mud for some reason – a nasty gash across her shoulder and fists clenched by her side. “What the Hell happened to you?” He asked. Estelle stomped over and sat across from him.

They hadn’t spoken since the motorcycle incident. Ares thought he would be half-tempted to kill her over it the next time they met, but it was a few years down the road and all he felt was exasperation… besides, it sounded like Demeter had been torturing her enough for all of them. Sure enough:

“What is Demeter’s _problem?”_ She demanded. Ares stared. He had… not expected this. And what did it have to do with him? Slowly, he put down the knife he was sharpening and tried to think of a response. “I mean, I _get_ it. Hades stole her daughter and that’s really sad, but didn’t that happen like… a thousand years ago?” She said, throwing up her hands so mud splattered around them. “And now she ignores her other kids?”

Ares blinked a few more times.

“Do… do I look like someone who would care?” He asked, completely serious. Had something about his aura changed? Did he look more approachable? This was a legit question. Estelle put her chin in her hand and sighed.

“…she doesn’t even know her birthday.”

“I – who?”

“Chloe! She’s this other hunter. Apparently, her mom just left her in a field somewhere for her dad to find and he has no idea when she was actually born and Demeter never bothered to tell her! Isn’t that awful? Do you know your kids’ birthdays?” She asked. Ares laughed.

“Of course,” he said and threw his knife down so it stuck in the ground beneath them. “Whenever one of my kids are born I go pick a fight with someone who has the same name as them. It’s kind of a tradition,” he said fondly. Estelle stared at him.

“Oh,” she said and nodded slowly. “That’s… a nice tradition,” she told him. Ares beamed. He thought so. He actually had a kid born not too long ago. Little Rex. Stellar name. He had spent a good ten minutes finding the perfect Rex to beat up in his honor. “That isn’t what I came to talk to you about though,” Estelle said and wiped some more mud off of her. “I just… don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath. “But I need to talk to you about your job,” she said. Ares chuckled.

“My job, huh?”

“You’re the god of war,” Estelle informed him reasonably. “That means everything regarding war falls in your domain, right?” She asked. Ares nodded. That sounded about right. He pretty much loved all of it anyways so… he had no qualms with his work. Estelle’s eyes narrowed. “Then the survivors are supposed to be under your protection too.”

Ares paused. Wait.

“Um, well-”

“Like veterans and ex-military and demigods,” she reasoned. Ares shook his head.

“Nah, I would pin that on Dionysus. He deals with the crazy people.”

Estelle bristled.

“They aren’t _crazy_ ,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest. “And he said it was your domain and that he ends up picking up your slack,” she told him. Ares rolled his eyes. Such a whiny little brother, that one. “I think it’s reasonable. You’re basically war itself. You should make sure people understand you-”

“I’m not a feelings sort of guy, sweetheart,” Ares said coolly and pushed a finger against her forehead so she stumbled back. Estelle’s jaw clenched. “Nor do I particularly care what you think.” He said. In response, the girl merely sat on the ground. Ares stared. He wanted so badly to toast her. Put her up in flames. She irked him more than maybe even her brother. “You are incredibly annoying.”

“Yeah,” she agreed and tucked a foot under her leg. “It’s the little sister in me.”

“If I could kill you then I would.”

“Uh huh.”

Estelle sighed.

“I know I never properly apologized for your motorcycle. Hermes really stuck up for me there, I know,” she said. Ares nodded. Between Hermes, Artemis, and even Poseidon… he had agreed _not_ to turn her into a stinkbug. Barely. “That was wrong of me to do.”

Ares waited.

“Keep going,” he said and Estelle blinked.

“Oh, um, that was all I really had-”

“Not good enough.” 

“I… fine,” she said and made a show of getting on her knees before clasping her hands together. “Great and merciful Lord Ares, _please_ accept my humblest of apologies for my disrespect. I beg for your forgiveness and promise to be more mindful in the future,” she said. Ares hummed.

“Eh.”

“Seriously?” She asked. Ares shrugged. “Um, I will give you… three offerings in the future?” She asked. Ares shrugged again. “Five?”

“Throw me a compliment and I’ll consider accepting this mediocre apology.”

Estelle closed her eyes. For a moment he thought she had just died on the spot. Then she cleared her throat again.

“You… are… not always terrible.”

“Try again.”

Estelle gave a long sigh and then mulled over the request silently. Finally, she nodded.

“The fact you are considering accepting this apology at all shows you are forgiving,” she went with. Ares rolled his eyes. He had been looking for ‘devishly handsome’ or ‘best swordsman in the world’ but sure. Why not?

“Very well,” he told her and waved a hand so two chairs appeared. Estelle got up from the ground and sat down. “I would also recommend you stop with this inane attempt to tell me how to do my job.” He added. Estelle pursed her lips. Ares waited. Three… two… one…

“I brought a binder.”

“I _hate_ you,” Ares declared as she brought a three-ringed binder from seemingly nowhere to shove under his nose. “What is this? Gods, I just want to strangle you-”

“Statistics. Looks, this is the amounts of veterans who end up in cycles of drug abuse after serving. Here are poverty rates and – see? See how little they’re paid? Also, I have demigod specific ones here. Assuming they survive the monsters and stuff there is also a number who die from just the trauma portion of it. Will says mental illness is higher too-”

“Athena deals in battle strategy,” Ares said and shoved the binder back. “She would love this. Go bother her.”

“Athena is also the goddess of wisdom, crafts, math, and civilization,” Estelle said flatly. “She’s kind of already busy.”

“You really don’t understand how respecting gods work, do you?” Ares asked her. Estelle only shrugged. “Look, kid, I’m only going to go through this with you once and then if you keep badgering me I’m going to start showing you images of people dying in battle,” he said and grabbed her arms. “I’m the god _war_. Do you know what, in the end, war actually is?” He asked her. Estelle frowned and gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Rich people getting poor people to fight for them. That’s it,” he shrugged. “We do the same thing. Gods get demigods to fight for their causes. Kings do the same with their peasants. Presidents with their soldiers. World leaders with their people. Even in religions it is gods getting humans to fight on their behalf. It’s kind of just how it works. _My_ role is to get all those poor, innocent dummies to actually _do_ it. Can’t have a war if people realize they’re just dogs in a dog fight, right? So, I inspire the bloodlust, the courage, the ability to _care_ about what they fight for. Then, when it’s all done, I leave. The aftermath is of very little concern to me,” he said and leaned back. Estelle was quiet – for once.

“But… your kids?” She finally asked. Ares raised an eyebrow. “Are they the same to you? Just… people to fight?”

“And they’re the _best_ at it. Need hardly any convincing.”

Estelle swallowed as if there was something hard in her throat. Ares hoped this was what broke her. This silly mortal girl… thinking she had the right to inflict her moral agenda onto the gods as if she had any sort of understanding of the world. Ares had heard some other gods mutter as her arrogance. It looked as if they were right to do so. Slowly, Estelle pulled the binder back and started flipping through it.

Oh, boy. Ares braced himself to be annoyed again when she tore out a sheet from the back and handed it to him. Ares sighed and glanced down. A list of names. Wonderful.

“You should talk to them,” she said with a shrug. “If you go through it and decide it’s stupid then whatever, but… I would at the very least visit the first person on the list,” she told him quietly and stood back up. “You might find it worthwhile.”

Ares looked down at the list and sighed. It was official. She was more annoying than her brother. Someone should get her a trophy.

His fingers brushed over the first name. Maybe... maybe he would give it a second of his time. For the Hell of it.

* * *

“SILENA! PUT THE KNIVES DOWN AND HELP YOUR DAD WITH DINNER!”

Ares watched as a small girl groaned before throwing down some knives and rushing off from the backyard towards the kitchen. Clarisse rolled her eyes, watching in amusement before checking something in her hand.

“…damn Jacksons – SILENA! DO YOU WANT TO SEE LUKE AND GRACE NEXT WEEK?” She called and there was a squeal from inside the house. “Yeah, I was afraid of that.” Clarisse snorted. Ares stepped out.

“Daughter.”

A long pause followed. He could see her tense – eyes trailing over his face for a moment and then it was gone.

“Lord Ares,” she greeted casually – as if she had somehow run across him in a supermarket. “What an unexpected honor,” she said and then looked him up and down with wary consideration. “Is Frank alright? Sherman? Mark? Ellis?” She listed off. Ares nodded and Clarisse’s expression softened.

“There are others now. You haven’t been to camp in some time,” he told her.

“Camp Half-Blood doesn’t quite accommodate adult life,” Clarisse said dryly and glanced towards the house behind her. “Or legacies,” she added. “We’re hoping to have Silena train with the Romans instead. Maybe head to New Rome ourselves.”

“You’re Greek,” Ares reminded her. Clarisse shrugged.

“I’m too old to be living in that cabin with a bunch of pre-pubescent boys these days,” she said with a snort. Ares rolled his eyes.

“You have two sisters.”

“Yes, I know-”

“No, no. Two new ones. I claimed them last month,” Ares said with a shrug. “They’re twins. Just turned ten.”

“Ah,” Clarisse nodded and dusted off her hands. “What did they do?” She asked. Ares raised an eyebrow. “You don’t claim your kids early unless they do something to impress you,” Clarisse said dryly. Ah. Well, fair enough. “You wouldn’t at all if Jackson hadn’t made the deal for them to be claimed by thirteen,” she added under her breath.

“They made it to camp alive,” Ares said quietly. “That was enough for me to claim them.”

He could tell by her expression that she was not impressed.

“I would like you to tell me about the war,” he said finally. Clarisse’s brows furrowed. “Not… the parts you enjoyed. The parts you didn’t,” Ares said and waited. Silence followed. Inwardly, Ares sighed. He hated this. Still, he could see some sort of response was at the tip of Clarisse’s lips – deliberating on whether to be said aloud.

“I don’t understand,” she finally went with. Ares looked around the yard. Toys littered the lawn next to various weapons and other assortments of messes. He could see glimmers of his cabin even within the house. Subtle signs she had at least considered pieces of him home. He turned to look back at her. Suddenly, he wondered what ever happened to her mother.

Had she survived having a demigod child? Or had Ares condemned her without even thinking twice about it? He wanted to ask, but that risked Clarisse remembering she thought of him as an enemy. Perhaps he would investigate more afterwards. For now, he needed to focus on this.

“I see you in you… absolutely everything I could want in a child. You have my bloodlust. My need for war. My persistence and pride,” he said and then paused. “However, I must face the facts that there are… other parts of you that I do not understand. And because I did not understand those parts I denied their very existence,” Ares said and Clarisse’s eyes widened ever so slightly. A sudden, unfamiliar wave of defeat washed over him… as if losing a war he had no idea he was fighting. Perhaps that meant it was time to surrender. “Clarisse, I am war and courage personified. Through your mortality, you have the honor of being so much more than that. I’m sorry that the price is that you must feel pain from my existence.”

She looked as if he had just dropped her from the sky and caught her. Ares considered just leaving then. He had said all he wanted to. Clarisse wouldn’t want to talk about the war now. Not with him-

“I need to eat dinner with my family,” Clarisse said, interrupting his thoughts. Her voice was firm and controlled – but there was something underneath that wavered. “Would… would you be willing to come back?” She asked cautiously. Ares hesitated. Then his eyes flicked towards the house and he nodded.

“Whatever you want, kid.”

Clarisse tilted her head at him.

“Thank… you…” She said slowly and then bit her lip. “Maybe you could meet your granddaughter.”

Ares thought back to the little girl. He had no idea she had a kid… or if she married that Hermes boy. Was she done with that college nonsense now? What did she even get a degree in? Maybe he would ask.

“You would want that?”

“I don’t know,” Clarisse admitted. “But… for what it’s worth, I think that you aren’t just war or courage.”

“Hm.”

“Hm,” Clarisse mimicked and uncrossed her arms over her chest. “By the sound of it, you might even have a decent shot at being a parent,” she told him and looked him up and down suspiciously. “You know, if you play your cards right.”

Ares’ lips twitched.

“Is that a challenge, punk?”

Clarisse’s eyes flickered back with that fire that Ares now remembered had been what drawn him to her mother in the first place.

“Try to live up to it.”

* * *

When Annabeth Chase designed Olympus she had added a section. It had been a controversial move at the time, but Athena had defended her daughter fiercely and asked the gods to respect her designs even if they hadn’t agreed. Ares never thought he would visit the temple again so soon in the flesh, but alas. Here he was.

Demigods didn’t get temples. Gods got temples. Damn brat was bold to do it, but… Ares grimaced. He could suddenly see the appeal. Fallen heroes surrounded him – memorials of those who had fallen in battle or died for the gods. He saw Clarisse’s girl between two of the columns. Silena. Next to her was Hephaestus’ boy. Hermes’ son – that had gotten a loud grumble when Chase put his in, but was silenced by Hermes himself. There were others. Not many Ares recognized until he came to the newest addition at the end of the hall.

_Jason Grace._

Ares shook his head.

“Pondering a moral dilemma?”

Brothers were overrated. Ares found he had far too many and not a single one he enjoyed. Taking off his sunglasses, Ares turned to find Apollo leaning against a column, a subtle smirk playing at his lips. Ares sneered in return.

“I wanted some quiet,” Ares snapped and Apollo laughed. It was a lie and they both knew it. Ares hadn’t wanted ‘quiet’ since he entered this world screaming. “Why are you here?” He asked, feeling a strange wave of… perhaps it was exhaustion? He couldn’t be sure. He felt it in his bones though. Apollo grimaced and walked forward, standing next to him to look at Jason Grace’s shrine.

“You were born a god,” Apollo said thoughtfully. “And I don’t think father ever turned _you_ mortal,” he mused. Ares shrugged. He was grateful for that at least. “Being Lester wasn’t the first time I’ve been mortal,” Apollo told him slowly. “But… I think it was the first time I had someone die like that while I was. It’s… different. You feel things differently. You feel the life leave differently. It haunts you,” he said and swallowed. Ares stared at him. His mind flicked to Clarisse.

_No. No, I didn’t love that part._

“So?”

“I don’t know,” Apollo sighed and ran a hand through once-again golden hair. “I find myself here a lot. Trying to fix it.”

“He’s already dead,” Ares reminded him flatly and then narrowed his eyes. Wait. “That… the Blofis girl?” He asked and wrinkled his nose. “Are you the one protecting her? Is she Grace reborn or something?” He asked. Apollo snorted.

“Jason Grace is in Elysium still,” Apollo told him with a small smile. “I’ve checked with Hades to ensure it.”

Poor Hades. Always dealing with these requests. Gods or not, some of them needed to suck it up and let his uncle slack off a bit. They’re dead. Get over it. All these politics for heroes was nonsense. The process seemed simple enough for him, but whatever. Jason Grace would have ended up in Elysium anyways – or the Roman version of it. Perhaps that was Apollo’s intervention. The boy may be Roman, but he turned out to be a Greek at heart.

“The girl?” Ares prompted. Apollo grimaced.

“I didn’t make that stupid necklace for her,” he grumbled. Ares scoffed. “I _didn’t!_ Delivered, yes, perhaps… but I didn’t make it. Father can’t hold it against me.” He said. Ares didn’t answer. Even if Apollo _had_ just been the delivery boy, it wouldn’t save him from Zeus’ wrath.

“Why are you involved in all?” Ares asked him with a sigh. “Trying to start fights is my fetish.”

“I wasn’t _trying_ to – I didn’t know it would turn out like this!” Apollo snapped indignantly. “It was meant to be a simple thank you for Sally and Paul. They helped me in their own, mortal way. I thought I would do a simple favor in return. It… I may have panicked,” Apollo told him.

Ares turned to him.

“Panicked?”

“I might have accidentally tangled with the Fates,” Apollo said quietly and Ares’ brows raised. “And by the time I realized what was happening... I knew I needed help. I couldn’t help the girl, but if I could find someone who _would_ …” He trailed off. Ares stared at him.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’ve figured it out,” Apollo told him simply and then turned away from Jason’s shrine to look him in the eyes. “And I’m asking you not to tell… even if you’re angry.”

Ah, Apollo. Ares once thought of him as his opposite, but that wasn’t quite true. His brother had his share of violence and wrath as they all did. Even the charming smile and flirty quips didn’t erase the fact he had flayed children alive, burdened humanity with plagues, and struck down his sister’s best friend out jealousy. Just to name a few.

Most importantly though, was the reminder that Apollo didn’t bear just one or two titles. He had many – oh, so many – that were shoved under his name. God of the sun, truth, prophecies, healing, archery, music, poetry… it made him more alike to mortals than any other god.

And now he was asking Ares to do the same. To go against his very nature – his need for fights and bloodshed to…. What? Protect this nuisance of a little girl? Defy whatever the Fates had originally planned for her? Aid in this betrayal against their father?

He wanted to say no. Except… Clarisse was still settled uncomfortably in the back of his mind. Perhaps he owed that bratty little mortal after all.

“There’s only one person I know who would defy the Fates,” Ares agreed softly. “I’ll keep quiet, but it will come at a price,” he decided. Apollo scowled.

“What price?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps I’ll use your poetry to win over Aphrodite again,” he said and Apollo made a face at him. “What? I would think you would be happy _somebody_ likes it.”

“You disrespect me more than any mortal,” Apollo grumbled and turned away. “Not a word, Ares. If our father strikes me down again, I will work hard to take you with me.”

Ares rolled his eyes before turning to Jason’s shrine one more time. The hero’s eyes seemed to drill into him.

“Artemis owes you for saving his life,” he said simply and brought out the list Estelle had written him. Sighing, he crossed off another name before letting his finger fall to next one. This was ridiculous. Still, maybe… it would be okay to learn about war through more mortal eyes. Could be helpful in making the whole thing more awesome. Closing his eyes, he shifted before reopening them again to find himself in the middle of a kitchen with a baby blabbering at him.

The punk kid had another punk baby. Go figure.

"Lord Ares," Estelle greeted and got up to bow her head. "What an honor."

"You've finally learned manners," Ares said and Estelle gave a subtle smirk as she looked back up. "Either that or I've done something to please you." He said. Estelle tapped the end of her nose. Damn her. "I take you've spoken to Clarisse?" He said and Estelle sat back down to continue feeding the baby in the highchair.

"I did," she said and wiped some gross shit off of the baby's face. Ares grimaced. "Did you meet Silena?" She asked. Ares shrugged. "She's a little older than Luke. Sweet girl. Isn't that right, Grace?" Estelle cooed at the baby. "What are you doing here?" She asked over her shoulder at Ares. "Finally here to kill me?"

"No," Ares said and brought out the paper. "Just... checking another name off of my list. Also, wanted to personally congratulate you on leaving the hunt," he added. Estelle flinched. "Rumor has it a pretty girl was involved." He added. Estelle flushed.

"I - no, it was... don't worry about me." She grumbled and Ares grinned.

"Sounds like you had a _crush_."

"No! You - PERCY!" Estelle said suddenly, standing up with her face turning bright red. "THE GOD OF WAR IS HERE TO SEE YOU!"

A crash followed seconds later. Then the sound of something breaking. Then pounding. More crashing. Glass shattering. Feet running down the stairs. Then Perseus Jackson appeared in the doorway a second later with mused hair, stained shirt, and boxers. Riptide was held out in front of him - the only warrior-like thing about him at the moment.

"No," he greeted. Ares snorted and held up a hand to wave. "No," Percy repeated and then looked around wildly. "...no."

"I come in peace," Ares said and then laughed. Him? In peace? As if. Jackson narrowed his eyes. "Look, dipshit. I'm no therapist, but out of the goodness of my heart I'm trying to help you messed up war gremlins out," he said and Percy blinked a few times. Riptide didn't lower. "So, if you and the wife could help me then it would make my life easier. I'm trying to avoid going back to the VA. They had me on hold for like three hours," he muttered with a bit of disgust.

"Terrible," Estelle said. "You should do something about it."

"So what was your crush's name? Claire? Cora?" He asked and Estelle made a face before putting up her hands in mock surrender. She walked over to grab the baby.

"Come on, Grace. He's just going to be mean to us," she grumbled, patting a bewildered Percy's arm as she walked by.

"I... I'm not talking to you!" Percy said, shaking his head. "What? What's happening? What did you do?" He yelled over his shoulder in the direction Estelle went. "What are you doing? Stop it," he demanded. Ares chuckled and sat down, grabbing a box of cereal. "Don't eat my Fruit Loops," Percy muttered as he slowly lowered his sword. Ares ate a few Fruit Loops just to piss him off.

"Don't worry, I really don't care about your feelings. Just trying to get a mortal's perspective on things to streamline processes," he dismissed. Percy stared. Ares gestured for him to sit.

"...I've done it," he said in wonder, but sat down. "I've finally lost my mind."

"Figuratively or literally? I actually do need to know that," Ares said. "Also, don't be a whiny bitch about this either. Just say what happened after the war. What kind of things you did, where you went, who you talked to - that stuff. Try not to make it boring." He said, leaning back and then paused. There was actually... one question he wanted to know, legitimately. Percy seemed too shock to register the rest of his questions so he just went for it. "Why did you keep doing it?"

"What?"

"The quests, the fighting, the wars. Your... I have a hard time pinning your motives," Ares admitted. "Some of them are easy, but they can blur," he said and shook his head.

Poor kid looked seconds away from fainting.

"I had no choice in a lot of it. I either fought or let the world end," he said with a shrug. Then went a little quiet. "I wanted to stop the quests for awhile and get on with my life, but... then I refused to go on one," he said and swallowed. "And Jason died."

Guilt. That was more common of an emotion than Ares knew existed, apparently. He didn't say anything. Jackson seemed lost in his own mind before tapping his knee.

"Estelle asked me something similar once," he said suddenly. "About why I kept doing scary things. She was only like... six. It was a difficult thing to explain to her."

"What did you say?" Ares asked. Jackson narrowed his eyes. Possibly suspicious that Ares was about to pull some major prank on him... which he did think about doing. In fact, he had been debating it up until they sat down at this table. After a few more seconds, he sighed. Apparently Ares seemed trustworthy.... no, not trustworthy. Maybe he was just giving him a chance.

“I said that sometimes we do scary things because we have no choice, sometimes we do them because they’re important, and sometimes we do them because we care.”

Ares ate another Fruit Loop. He thought to Frank. Despite his disdain for the Jackson boy, he _had_ saved his son's life on occasion... a rare occasion, but nevertheless.

"Well," he finally said and Percy gave him a wary look. "Thank you for caring. Maybe one day I'll find it within me to do the same, ” he said and grabbed a bowl. “Do you have any milk?"

**Author's Note:**

> omg I love seeing everyone's theories in the comments so much! I sprinkled on a bit more mystery here with some Apollo's stuff so don't worry if you're confused. Much is yet to be revealed lol. Let's just say there's a reason Apollo thought she might need another god to look out for her and we'll be discovering why soon (: 
> 
> Aside from Apollo... would Demeter, Zeus, Hephaestus, and Zeus be the only ones left? I know someone mentioned Hestia so I'm gonna add her to mix, but we're really making some progress here! Thanks for cheering me on through all of this!


End file.
